


A minor Christmas miracle

by ravelqueen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Cookies, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, again food stuff in my sterek fic I don't know why I keep doing that, derek is such a broody guy, i do not know, only decorating though, set in some nebulous things are actually kind of ok alternate universe, stiles just wants to cheer him up ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravelqueen/pseuds/ravelqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“What do you mean, you need my living room?” Derek asks. Stiles tries going in regardless, but the other man is blocking the doorway with his stupid muscles and his stupid face and with the three boxes he is carrying he can't just duck under his arms like normally.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> <i>“It means we need your living room, what do you think it means?”</i></p><p>(Or the one where Stiles just wants to put Derek in the Christmas spirit)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A minor Christmas miracle

**Author's Note:**

> written for the sterek holiday exchange for Valerie, who wanted something christmassy (guess what I did the day i wrote this^^)

“What do you mean, you need my living room?” Derek asks. Stiles tries going in regardless, but the other man is blocking the doorway with his stupid muscles and his stupid face and with the three boxes he is carrying he can't just duck under his arms like normally.

 

“It means we need your living room, what do you think it means?” he says, trying to shoulder past anyway, but man, the guy is like a brick wall.

 

“Don't you have a living room? Doesn't _Scott_ have one?” _Man, that level of sarcasm is unwarranted, it's Christmas, relax a bit,_ Stiles snorts. Cora may have said that Derek is actually capable of it, but he's never proven it in _Stiles_ company.

 

“Of course we do, you've been to both of our houses, you enormous stalker. Can you please let me in, so I can at least have this conversation without my arms killing me.” he tries out his most winsome smile, the one that makes the woman in the bakery always give him an extra cookie.

 

Derek sighs, shaking his head in defeat.

 

“Thank yo-” and suddenly the weight dragging his arms down disappears.

 

Derek settles the boxes more securely where he holds them in one arm, the enormous poser, using them to block the little window under his arm and raising an eyebrow.

 

“Seriously?” he asks incredulously, “Seriously, you'd rather stand here holding three extremely heavy things, than just let me in?” He can't help but feel a little stung by that. What does Derek think that he has _bombs_ in there?

 

 _Though I guess, after the last time and that chemistry project I decided to do here, he has a right to be a bit suspicious._ And nervous about his nose. Stiles still can't manage to feel entirely repentant about it though, because having Derek sleep on his couch for a week gave him so much new fantasy fuel, he doesn't even know how he gets out of bed sometimes.

 

“Why do you need my living room, Stiles? “ Derek asks, exasperation creeping into his voice, “And why isn't Scott carrying this, if it's too heavy for you?”

 

“It's not too heavy for me! It's just not that comfortable to hold for long stretches of time.” he defends himself, because seriously he's not actually that weak. He worked out over the summer a lot. “And for your information, Scott is coming after me with four more of these boxes.”

 

“But _why here_?” Derek asks again, and he is developing that delicious whine in his voice that makes him sound simultaneously younger and cuter.

 

“Don't get your knickers in a twist and use your werewolf senses for something useful. What does the stuff you're carrying smell like?” he says, crossing his arms.

 

Derek still looks doubtful. “It's not a prank, go on smell it.”

 

He sniffs the air and seconds later his eyebrows shot up. “Cookies?”

 

“Yes, cookies you big dork, now let me through, Scott and the others will be here any second now.” As if to prove his point, Scott finally comes up the staircase, trailed by Allison and Lydia carrying a box each.

 

“What the-” Derek gapes and Stiles uses that slackening in the defences to slip into the loft on his other side.

 

“Derek, it's really awesome that you let us use your place for this, thanks man!” Scott says, giving Derek a wide sincere smile, “isn't that right, Isaac?”

 

And just like that, Derek shoulders slump and he moves aside. Stiles snickers, because Derek is such a _sucker_ for Scott, while simultaneously being so stupid about him. Maybe someday Stiles will reveal that Scott likes him now and that he really can stop trying so hard. But until that day comes he'll milk Derek's easy acquiescence for all it's worth.

 

“Ha, I knew it, open floorspace. Ok, troop set everything up. Isaac, you first.” he says, taking the boxes from Derek and putting them on the floor while Isaac gets out the huge rolls of paper towels and starts methodically putting them on the empty floor of Derek's living/planning room.

 

Everyone else is getting the cookies and their supplies out of their boxes, but Derek starts drifting away from them and no way is Stiles going to have that.

 

“Where do you think you are going.” he asks him. Derek winces. _Did he think I wouldn't notice him leaving?_

 

“You obviously have things well in hand, so I'll just, go.” His slightly lost look tells Stiles in big neon letters that he has no idea what those “things” are, and Jesus, can he be more depressing.

 

“Yeah, no chance you are getting out of doing your fair share.” If there is one thing he has learned about Derek it's that you never ask him to join you in any type of fun activity, because he'll take it as a sign that you are just polite about it, or don't really mean it. But if you order him...

 

“Doing my fair share of what? I still haven't heard an explanation.” Derek crosses his arms and loses some of the puppy-dog-abandoned-in-the-rain-air about him. He widens his stance and yes, combative Derek is so much better than insecure Derek. Stiles is awesome at this cheering up thing, someone, sometime should really give him a medal.

 

“What does it look like genius? We are decorating cookies.” He can't really help the mocking tone that enters his voice, because he can see Allison methodically laying out the different frosting colours, so what the hell else could it be?

 

“Decorating cookies?” Derek should really stop being so adorable when he's confused, because Stiles would start explaining things to him right away, but how can he if he'd miss _that_?

 

“Yes? I mean, I know your life has been a depressing roller coaster of bad choices and even worse luck, but even you must have decorated cookies at least once.” Suddenly Stiles isn't sure any more, because what if Derek actually _hasn't_  decorated cookies before, or even worse, the last time he did it was with his family before they were burned.

 

 _Oh my god, his eyebrows, they are morphing from his cute confused eyebrows into his sad, tragic eyebrows._ He is seriously freaking out a bit, because has he actually managed to dredge up a traumatic memory with both Allison _and_ Isaac in the room, two of the people Derek hates to show weakness in front of, without even Cora there to run interference?

 

 _Ok, first things first. Damage control,_ he thinks, grabbing him by the arm and silently pulling him away from everyone, hoping that the idea of decorating cookies shaped like hearts with Allison and Isaac will distract Scott for a while, seeing as the last thing he needs is to spoil _Scott's_ enthusiasm on top of everything else.

 

“Derek, _Derek_ oh god I'm sorry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, wondering how this got out of control so fast. _Ok, only thing left. Honesty time. Kind of._ He takes a deep breath.

 

“I just thought, it's Christmas soon and you didn't even put up a tree and decorating cookies that's something not even you could fail at.” he looks up, trying to gauge Derek's reaction. The sadness eyebrows are not quite as sad as before but still noticeably there. _Damn it._

 

“Only, I- I thought you'd enjoy it, that's all.” he looks down, because he can't believe he fucked this up, even though he wanted to do something nice for Derek, something that would make him happy he decided to come back to Beacon Hills. So he'd stay. _Well done, Stilinski, stellar job as usual,_ he thinks viciously.

 

But suddenly there is a hand on his arm and someone chuckling? _What the hell_ , he looks up and yes indeed, Derek is smile-smirking and kind of weirdly closer and- “Oh my fucking god, you fucker, you were messing with me! I was seriously worried here” He hits Derek on the arm, which puts him even closer, but he can't care about that right now, because _how dare he-_

 

All thoughts stop, because there are arms around him and a warm breath against his ear and muscles under his hands which are kind of squashed between their bodies. It's all a bit too much to process.

 

“Thank you, Stiles.” is breathed against his neck and he's alone a second later, staring dumbly after Derek who is moving back into the main room, approaching Lydia cautiously and asking her if he can help her with the frosting.

 

He can't move for another second and then he shakes himself out of it, but still doesn't join the others until Scott yells for him, because if they saw his stupid grin they'd immediately know what was up. And he kind of wants this Christmas miracle to stay his little secret for a while.

 


End file.
